Wandering around Moctezuma I became intrigued wondering about the histories of many of the things that I was photographing. Maybe it was the name of the station, it’s historical connotations lingering in the mind.

An empty bottle of Mexican ‘Oso Negro’ (Black Bear) vodka discarded in the hollow of a light pole:

Who drank it? How was his/her/their night (or day)?

An abandoned couch:

How many nights were slept on it? How loved was it in its halcyon days?

The dilapidated car with a joker motif:

Where did the owner go on the very first day with the new paintwork? How many heads did it turn?

There are so many histories of the world, so many little stories. As Kerouac said ‘It’s like the ghosts of all the mosquitoes that ever lived, the density of the story of the world all of it would be enough to drown the Pacific as many times as you could remove a grain of sand from its sandy bed’

Genius.

Well, around Moctezuma there seems to be time to ponder it all whether your queuing for a bus or sitting pensive in a park.

Or, if you fancy, you could stop in for a pulque and share some stories at Moctezuma’s pulqueria ‘La Bella Grande’. Nothing says tradition and history more than a good pulque. I’d wager Moctezuma quaffed a few himself. If you take your dog to Moctezuma don’t forget to pick up after him though.